Turtle Nanny 911
by Redwaters
Summary: Splinter is at his wits end with his sons, so he decides to call in for backup. Can a nanny really be the anwer he's looking for?


**Disclaimer:** I own the Ninja Turtles. I got a policy right here that says so. (Reads the paper) Wait a minute, they spelled Ninja with two A's. I've been stupped...guess the Brooklyn Bridge isn't my either.

_A/N: This was an idea inspire by Nanny 911 and written kind of on the spot._

**Turtle Nanny 911**

A wearily humanoid rat staggers out of the room of his four turtle sons, whom he finally got to sleep. A low whimper escapes his lips when he observed the living room that sat before him. It looked like either a tornado ran through the area or a total war zone.

With a frustrated sigh, Splinter sets about cleaning up the place.While picking up Leonardo's plastic katanas and gathering Michelangelo's comic books, he accidentally steps on point of one of Raphael's army men that the young turtle had carelessly scattered along the floor. He stifles a yelp of pain and suppresses the urge to mutter a few profanities, because that is not who he was. After rubbing his sore foot, Splinter scoops up all the army men and dump them into a nearby trash bin as he promised Raph he'd do the next time he found them on the floor.

Once the living room looked somewhat livable, Splinter went into the kitchen for a well-deserved nighttime snack and a cup of hot tea to sooth the nerves. But...it was going to take more than a cup of tea to calm Master Splinter's stress once he got a twitch eyeful of the kitchen; it was worse than the living room. There were dishes, pots, and pans piled up high in the sink and lined along the counters. Food footprints led from the fridgetoatable smeared with condiments in some sort of artic form. Poor Splinter pounded his head against the wall before he went about cleaning up the kitchen.

When the kitchen was finally clean, Master Splinter moved back out into the living room with his (now midnight) snack prepared. He lets out a low groan as he lowers himself into his armchair that sat in front of a small TV. Afterwards, he takes a sip of Calamine tea and holds a remote out in front of him in order to do his nightly channel flipping.

**Click, nothing.  
****Click, nothing.  
****Click, nothing.**

For some strange reason the TV wouldn't turn on. Splinter turns the remote over to look at the back of it, the battery cover was missing and so were the batteries. They were probably in Don's newly built toy car or the flashlight Mike uses tolook athis comic book under the covers; perhaps they were in Raph's toy robot or maybe Leo's radio. He blows air out of the corner of his mouth as he gets back up from his chair and walks over to the TV to turn the knob.

**Turn, nothing.**

Still, the TV would not turn on. Splinter gives his head a quick scratch while trying to figure out what was wrong with the set. Suddenly he snaps his fingers and looks behind the set; it was unplugged. The mutant rat had to unplug the TV, because it had a hypnotic trance on the turtles and he couldn't get them to listen to him at all. He lets out a grunt as he bends over to re-plug the set and then goes back to his chair.

**Click.** An elderly looking English woman flickered onto the screen. "Do you have children?" She asked with a British accent.

"Yes." Master Splinter answered. This was a habit he seemed to have picked up from his turtle sons, for they were always talking to or back to the television.

"Are you tried of always having to pick up after them? Tired of having your home look like WW3 came through?"

"Who isn't?"

"Do you wish that they would do as you say or at least listen to you when you talk to them?"

"That would be nice."

"Then you should call our nanny hotline."

Master Splinter's ears perked up. "Eh?"

"That's right. We can handle any child no matter what. We can travel to any place no matter where you live." The screen showed the English woman picking up a phone receiver and put it to her ear. Almost like he couldn't control his hands, Splinter reached out for the cordless phone that sat on a table in front of his chair. "If you want your house back in order, then you want to call the nanny hotline. Lines are open any time, day or night." A number flashed onto the screen and Splinter dialed it right away.

**Day 1  
**(Nanny POV)

My name is Ana, and I been given a very usual assignment. I have a week to help a father, who is at his wits end, tame his four unruly sons. Their ages vary from five to nine. Odder yet, is their names. The father is named after a sliver of wood and his sons are named after Renaissance artist. There is the youngest one, the five-year-old, named Michelangelo. The two middle children are six-year-old Raphael and seven-year-old Donatello. The oldest of the group is named Leonardo, age nine.

So here I am in New York, looking for the house of my assignment, but the address given puts me somewhere in the middle of Central Park. I think to myself, '_This can not be right._' And just when I was about to leave, a voice calls out to me.

"Pssst. Ms. Over here."

Well I follow that voice over to a manhole. "Er…hello?"

The manhole cover moves and an elderly humanoid rat slowly emerge from the hole. He was a bit hunched over and it looked as if he had been pulling on the fur around his head. "Please do not be frighten Ms. I know my appearance is a little disturbing." He tells me.

'_A little disturbing._' It took all my strength not to pass out in front of him or to runaway screaming like a banshee.

"I assume you are Ms. Ana from the nanny hot line."

"Yes, that's right. You must be Splinter."

"That is correct."

"I wasn't told I was going to be dealing with a rat." I told him flatly.

"That is because I did not tell them. I prefer that our presence is not known." He tells me. "My turtle sons are the one you would be dealing with, that is, if you still want to take the assignment."

"Our policy is that we can take on any child, no matter age or species." I stated.

Splinter gave a sigh of relief. "That is good to hear. Please, follow me." He climbed back down into the hole and I follow closely behind him.

Upon entering the so called home, I could see why the elder rat looked so frazzled. His sons were bouncing off the walls, literally.

"Nah, nah. You can't catch me." The one called Raphael sang as he ricocheted off one of the walls. Clutched in his little hand was a ragged Teddy Bear.

"Wahhh!" Little Michelangelo sat crying in the middle room. "I want my pookie back."

"Raphie, you give that back." Big brother Leonardo yelled as he followed after his little brother. "What have I told you about teasing Mikey?"

"You ain't Master Splinter." Raphael answered before sticking out his tongue at Leonardo.

"Don't worry Leo, I got him." Young Donatello assured his brother. "I get him with my new invention, the Turtle Claw." Messing around with a small remote in his hands, the young turtle maneuvered a strange looking contraption that looked like a claw from one of those crane-games. After a few failed attempts, the machine caught little Raphael.

"Why don't you butt out you little butinsky?" The captured turtle yelled as he threw the stolen teddy bear at Donatello. The bear hit him in the hands and knocked his controller from them.

The remote smashed to bits on the floor. "You broke my new invention." Donatello cried. "You're such a meanie."

"Crybaby." Raphael stuck out his tongue and blew a raspberry.

"As you can see Ms. Ana, you have your work quite cut out for you." Splinter sighed.

"Yes, I do."

**Day 2**

I spent the morning observing everyday activity and the living quarters. Each little turtle had a place that he liked to spend his time at. Baby Michelangelo liked playing in the kitchen. When he wasn't pulling pots and pans out of the cupboard to play drums on, he was pulling condiments out of the fridge to paint the table with. I have to admit that the young turtle had quite an artistic eye; he made a nice picture of me and him holding hands. He was made of relish and I was made of mustard.

All was well, until young Raphael entered the room. First he proceed to mess up baby Michelangelo's 'drawing' by squirting ketchup all over it and then smearing mayonnaise into it. He soon darted out of the room when Splinter came in to find out what was making baby Michelangelo cry.

Out in the living room I found the second middle child, Donatello, in the corner with a bunch of tools. Strewed around him, were pieces of a toy robot and radio that he seemed to have taken apart. "What are you doing?" I asked him.

"Seeing how these things worked." He answered.

"Why?"

"Because I liked too."

Young Raphael joined after eluding his father. "Hey Donnie, have you seen my…robot." Seeing his dismantled toy, the young turtle smacked his older brother in the back of the head. "What have I told you about messing with my stuff?"

"Don't worry, I'll put it back together. It will be better than ever when I'm done." Young Donatello assured his brother.

"I don't want ya fixing up my robot, I want to play with now." Young Raphael demanded.

"When I'm done." Young Donatello answered.

"No, right now." Young Raphael stomped his foot on the ground and it landed on a sharp screw. "Wah!" He screeched while hopping around.

Splinter popped out of the kitchen with baby Michelangelo balanced on his hip and a wash cloth in the other. "Oh dear…" He sighed as he rushed over to the ailing child. "What is the matter my son?

Young Raphael dropped to the floor. "Donnie took apart my robot and I stepped on something sharp." He lifted up his foot to show his injury.

"Don't worry, we'll get that taken care of." Splinter groan while picking up young Raphael and put him on his other hip. Noticing that carrying his children about was part of the way he cared for them, I could I could see why he was hunched over a good deal of the time. "Donatello, I want you to put everything back to the way you found it, do you understand." The fatherly rat toldhis other sonbefore going back into the kitchen to take care of the injured one.

"Yes sensei." The young turtle answered and set to work on fix what he took apart.

With that solved I went in search of the oldest child, Leonardo. I found him sitting in front of the television, watching a kung-fu movie and mimicking every move they made. "Hiya." He threw a chop into the air. "Kiya." Then a kick. "Hup." Next was a back flip…right into a stand that held a potted plant. I watched as the stand wobbled back and forth before the plant came crashing down to the floor. "Oops."

Splinter popped out of the kitchen once more with young Raphael on one hip (sucking on a Popsicle) and baby Michelangelo on the other (his thumb in his mouth). "What have I told you?"

"That if I'm going to watch TV, I'm to sit down and stay seated." Leonardo answered.

"That's right." Splinter put down Raphael and Michelangelo. "Now I have a kitchen to clean, so I want you to keep an eye on your brothers."

Leonardo came over to his father, to collect his brother. "Yes sensei." He took them each by the hand that was not being used. While walking them back to the TV, young Raphael stuck his Popsicle into Baby Michelangelo's shell. The poor dear let out an ear piercing cry while his brother laughed at his expense. "Raph, that was not very nice." Leonardo scolded.

"So." Young Raphael answered.

"You apologize to Mikey right now." Leonardo ordered.

Young Raphael pulled his hand free from Leonardo. "I don't gotta listen to you." Then he proceeded to kick his brother in the leg.

"Ow! Master Splinter, Raphie just kicked me." Leonardo tattle.

"Raphael." Splinter's voice called out.

Young Raphael gave his older brother a slobbery raspberry. "What a baby." He said before run away to the bedroom he shared with his brothers.

**Day 3**

Today was the day I work my magic and try to get this family back under control. The first thing I did was call a family meeting. Here I was going to establish a set of rules for everyone to follow.

Rules:  
1. Respect everyone and their stuff.  
2. Use your words not violence.  
3. Ask before you take.  
4. Listen to what other have to say.  
5. Remember to say 'Please' when you want something and 'Thank you' when you get it.

"Aw, those are rules we already gots." Young Raphael whined.

"Well that's good." I commended. "Now if we could only follow them that would be even better."

Once the rules were established, I went about fixing up the home so that each turtle was taken care of.

To stop baby Michelangelo from using his artistic form in the kitchen, I set up an area for him out in the corner of the living room. There were paints, brushes, and crayons. The floors and wall in that area was lined with paper, so that he would not get his art on them. Plus the area was roped off in order to detour him from taking any of his stuff outside of it. Once placed inside the area, Baby Michelangelo had a ball and produced 20 pieces of art work in no time flat. This gave time for Splinter to relax in the kitchen rather than clean it.

As for Young Donatello, I had set up an area next to Baby Michelangelo with almost the same set up. In his area, he had many things that he could dismantle and put together at his pleasure. To insure that he would not take other peoples stuff, I made sure to supply him with many electronics that would keep him occupied for quite some time. This area too was roped off, insuring that nobody would be getting hurt by any sharp pieces scattered upon the floor.

Now I know that young Leonardo loves kung-fu movies, so I set up an area by the TV where he could do all the moving around he wants without his father worrying about him knocking anything over. And in case that he needed to really practice on something, I set up a balloon punching bag.

All that was left to work on was young Raphael. While all his brothers welcomed the ideas I have set before, he did his best to disrupt them. From him, I could sense some kind of anger hidden with in him and he seemed to like to take that anger out on his siblings. So I came up with the next best thing for him, I gave him a book. But it was not just any book, a blank one. At first the young turtle was confused as to why I gave him this. "It is so you could write out all your anger. Anything that bothers you, you put it in that book."

"Then what?"

"Destroy what you write."

He looked at me confusedly. "What?

"You heard me." I told him. "Tear up ever page if you have."

"What good with all that do?"

"You seem to hold in your anger and let it simmer until you have to let it out and you seem to let out by bugging your brothers. This way, you can figure out what makes you so anger and destroy it in order to make you feel better."

"But I don't know how to write well."

I figured the young turtle did what he did to get Splinter's attention. "Perhaps your father can help you with that." Thisshouldbea better way to help himget it.

"Alright, I guess I'll give it a try."

"That's all I ask."

**Day 4**

Now that the sons were taken care of, it was time to work on the father. With each son busy doing what he liked to do best, Splinter was free to go about and observe them. He now had the time to learn what each turtle child interest was.

First he spent some time painting with baby Michelangelo. Hetaught him how to do calligraphy, to which the young turtle thoroughly enjoyed. Next he watched Young Donatello put together a radio with parts from broke electronics that were laying about the sewer. The young turtle beamed when his father congratulated him when the radio worked successfully. With Leonardo, Splinter gave small pointers as to what his son could do to execute a perfect front kick; this made the young turtle very happy. As for young Raphael, it took a while for Splinter to convince him to try the book idea and the young turtle seem to milk the attention he received. Eventually the fatherly rat succeeds and soon he was helping the young turtle was scribbling out pages. With each page young Raphael finished writing andtearing up, a little smile crawled onto his face.

**Day 5**

Well it seems that my work here is done. The homely sewers no longer looked like a mess and father Splinter was no longer the frazzled rat I first met. Chaos had be turn into order as it should be. Unfortunately nobody will ever learn of my efforts here, because I promised Splinter I would not reveal them and their whereabouts. But I won't be forgetting them anytime soon, nor will I forget the experience I've had bringing a mutant family back together.

* * *

_A/N 2: Whoa, you got down here! I'm impressed. I figure if I wrote like the show, nobody would get here and I have to admit that this may not be one of my best pieces of work.  
As for the show Nanny 911, anyone who hasseen the show could tell you that it's always the first half hour that is the best. The last half hour, where everything is coming together, is kind of boring.  
Anyway, thanks for reading...until next time_


End file.
